The Fruitcake
by Flaming Black Skull
Summary: Mark leaves behind wealth and a father who can't accept him for who he is. What is this 'dark' secret that nobody can know? -Spin-off of The Dreamer- (Took this out of M because its not too graphic)
1. Backstory and A Question

_A/N: I have no idea why I was so inspired by my previous story The Dreamer but I am and so I apologize I have so many spin-offs associated with it. (Well, two so far, including this one.) But it's not all bad. For those of you who actually enjoy my works, I'm sure this is fantastic for you! If you haven't read The Dreamer_ or _Colorful Conversation,_I think reading those first will help you understand this story a little better. Read and Review please! I enjoy both constructive criticism and notes of enjoyment. :)__

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><p>I'll be the first to stay I'm not the most attractive man on the planet. I'll also say I'm not <em>unattractive<em> either. I'm in the middle, I guess. I'm a man of simple tastes, and the city is certainly not simple. It just wasn't for me. A guy like me with simple tastes often gets caught up in all the fuss there. All the drama, all that mindless corporate world stuff. That whole 'climbing up the social ladder' thing had been a dream of mine, but someone so incredibley...Dare I say? So, _normal_, so...Uninspiring, so unimaginative and..._Ordinary_ can get swept beneath the carpet easily. I know I'm nothing special. But so is 99% of the population. We have to accept that at some point, I guess. And on my 20th birthday, I did. A bit young for a mid-life crisis, yes, but I'd rather realize I'm in the wrong place _now _than be miserable for half my life and only have the remaining time to do what pleased me. It's better this way.

So I waved goodbye to my old hectic life and said hello to my new one.

My father always pushed me to get a business degree so I could take over his farm's finacial assets. So I could 'be a man' and...stuff. I don't know. I loved the old coot, but he didn't really..._Get_ me. He hadn't since I was at least fourteen. I didn't want that. I didn't want to be the head of his company. When I was a little kid, we had nothing. We had a few acres, a broken down tractor, a few chickens, cows, and other livestock. Our only workers where us. Within the next ten years however, somehow we got famous for selling the best darn produce on this side of the country. I couldn't ruin our platonic family with my 'nonsense,' either. I yearned for the good old days where it was just me and my dad, toiling in the fields. And when we were done, maybe a fishing trip or two. But no, here he was now. A big shot. And he had no room for me in his new world if I was going to quote: 'bum around and do nothing.'

So I took a year of college to please him. I was already a dissapointment to him, it was the 'least' I could do. I wouldn't give him any grandchildren, for one. No one to make an heir to his new found riches.

But that's something to talk about later.

The wealth changed him into someone I wasn't exactly fond of, as you can probably tell. Of course I still love him and I know he loves me. We just don't see eye to eye anymore.

So instead of wasting my life in a classroom for nothing I decided to tell him my feelings. And at first he was pretty pissed but then he realized he could use me for field work. So he set me off in an apartment in the city and listen to what customers where saying and what they were talking about and to spy on competitors. Recently, there had been a massive shift in sales. Not a good shift. Someone was taking our business.

I heard tale of a single farmer working on a small island a bit off the coast, the one that had been in the papers...They planned on going back to simpler times and living off the fat of the land and such. They called them the 'New Age Frontiersmen,' I recall. Just a small group of people trying to regain some of that down-to-earth and back-to-nature attitude that initially built this fine land. Nothing wrong with that. I sort of admired them. They were a pretty big deal when they first shoved off. I grew curious and followed the progress of these people. I rather envied them. Here I was in an apartment when all I ever wanted was to basically do what they were doing. I liked to get my hands dirty. (In more ways than one)

It just so happened that what they where doing concerned me and my father's company. My father, in order to meet demand, and turned from organic style farming and went into all that pesticide stuff and happened to do it when the rest of the country was becoming health conscious. I tried to tell him that, but he didn't listen. They started supporting the new island people's imports. People visited. It became a sort of pioneer-style resort. So I told him a fib and said that if I moved over there I could get closer to the enemy. What he didn't know was that I really supported _them_, I wanted the little guy to win.

It is a selfish thing, I know. But at least I'm mature enough to realize that. I'm just not mature enough to stop myself. I reasoned that if he failed he could see what all this money had changed him into. That it was ruining our relationship. Did I want him to lose it all? No. But could he stand to lose a little? Yes. Once there I did not plan to come back.

And then I met her.

Her name was Chelsea. She was the lone farmer on that island turning it out. She befriended me and even though she was socially awkward, I was totally infactuated her. Well, not in _that_ way, but she was just so..._Interesting_.

And nobody knew me here, so that was good.

If she could snag herself a hot beau, I could too.

Oh yes, that. Yes. Well-

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><p>"Mark, I need you to settle an argument." Chelsea nearly broke down my door.<p>

"...What is the argument?" I shut my journal and shoved it under my pillow after I had gotten over the initial shock of her running into my room unannounced.

"Are you...Are you ummm...-Because I don't think so. I mean, what do I know if you are or not? Because...I guess I could be...Called...Naive by some, but...But am I really that blind?" She blurted nonsense as hugged herself and brought her knees together. She always looked so vulnerable. Her face flushed. She always seemed embarrasessed with what she had to say, as if she thought everything she said was stupid.

"Am I... _What_?" I furrowed my brow. "And you shouldn't barge into someone's room like that! What if I was..._In the nude_?" I whispered the last part and her face got even redder.

"I-I apologize. I'm sorry, I don't think about things like that. And Vaughn seems to think that...That you are...A boy who likes other boys. Is that true?" Her voice got real quiet.

"That I'm gay?" The room suddenly got uncomfortable and tense.

"Yes." She nodded.

"...Shut the door."


	2. An Answer, Chocolate Cake, and Elliot

I watched her close the door.

"Sit down." She followed my directions with naive confusion on her face.

"Who said this, again?"

"Vaughn."

"...Well..." I crossed my arms and sighed. I really didn't want to have to do this. I had gone nearly half a season with keeping this secret. "He was right." I cleared my throat and looked at her to gauge her reaction. Everyone's was different. Sometimes it hurt me because the few people I thought would stick by my side...Didn't. Would Chelsea betray me too?

"...Ohhh." I could tell her mind went someplace else, like it usually did.

"Chelsea?"

"...Well, thanks. I lost." She huffed. "What do you plan on doing the rest of the day?" She continued in her every-day sort of tone. I blinked at her.

"Oh, you have nothing to say about it?"

"...Well, how you live your life and who you love doesn't really concern me, does it? It's your 're my friend, Mark. Just as long as the person makes you happy; Male or Female; I don't really care." Bless her heart, I wish everyone could be as accepting. She didn't even think twice.

"...Thank you."

"For what?"  
>"Being you." I patted her on the knee. "So! Now that's over, you asked me what I plan on doing the rest of the day? I dunno." I shrugged. " I guess it depends on what you're doing."<p>

"Well, I have a lot more free-time than usual. I don't have any crops right now because it's snowing like crazy and...Stuff. So yeah. I was just going to hang out with you cuz Vaughn is gone..."

"Oh I see. I'm your plan B." I tossed my hands in the air.

"No! I-" Her eyes widened and she stood from her seat.

"I was being sarastic, hun." I stifled a laugh. "Calm down."

"I don't think that was very funny..." She crossed her arms.

"Sorry. You're just so gullible." I giggled. "So let's talk. How's Vaughn?"

"He's um...He's good." She looked away with a red face.

"How good?" I put my perv face on. She whipped her head back at me in suprise.

"Huh! How do you mean?"

"You know." I waggled my eyebrows at her. She wrung her hands together.

"A lady does not speak about such things..." I busted out laughing.

"So you _have '_saved a horse and rode a cowboy,' eh?" If her face could get any redder, it did.

"! I have not, so called: 'ridden a cowboy' as of yet, Mark, a-and I resent your cheeky comments about my p-p-personal life!"

"All I heard was 'as of yet,' so...When are you going to?"

"Why are you so interested?"

"Because. Vaughn's hot." I shrugged.

Ahh, freedom.

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><p>"So...how do you manage to ship all of this stuff that everyone pools together at the end of the day?" I pushed a box next to the one Natalie just placed on the dock.<p>

"Oh, teamwork. Sticking together is really important. That's why we try and stay nice to each other. Working with family can be hard sometimes. Especially my idiot big brother." She made a thumb and pointed it to a young man. He looked a lot like her, with the same washed out red hair. He had glasses and looked kind of nervous as if he didn't know what to do with himself. There was something about him that piqued my interest. I wonder what he would look like without glasses...

"I think...I'm going to interview him now. I appreciate you taking your time to talk with me." I grinned and gave her a handshake. She smiled back and went to work again. "Elliot?" I moved in.

"Y-yes? Oh, you're Mark. You said you'd be interviewing us, that's right."

"Yeah. How are you today?"

"Oh, I-I'm fine." He shrugged.

"Alright. So, do you like working with your family?"

"Yes, most days." He nodded.

"I see, and your sister?"

"What about her?"

"How do you feel working with her? All the people I knew back in the city hated their little siblings, y'know? I was just wondering if you thought it sucked working with her."

"Sometimes, but it's mostly because I feel she doesn't respect me." He glared at the back of her head.

"Oh I see." I nodded. "Do you tell her that?"

"No, because she'd yell at me." He sighed.

"Ohhh. " I put a hand to my mouth.

"Work is hard and we need everybody, so I suppose I have no room to complain about it." He shrugged.

"I could help sometimes, you know. When I'm not busy." I gave him my 'open-for-business' smile.

"Sure! We could use all the help we can get."  
>"Oh, you make it look so easy!"<p>

"Well thanks, it's really not. It's a simple system but if it gets messed up we're doomed."

"So how _does_ your shipping system tick?"

"Well, we have the loading pool at our house. That's after we go around and box everyone's shipments at their shipping box and then we take inventory and log how much money each item is worth. Then we each take a box from our house and load it up at the dock. Then whoever is at that station that day puts it in the boat loading area and we get our money. Then we give our neighbors their fair share. We get 20% for labor."

"Fascinating." I put my hand on my cheek.

"You think so? I helped come up with the method."

"You sure are smart, Elliot." I paused to let him soak up the compliment. He would be easy if he kept up like this. "Anyways, I have to be going now. See you tommorrow, maybe?"

"Uhh, sure."

"Thanks for letting me talk your ear off. It was a pleasure meeting you!" I waved and walked off.

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><p>"I think Elliot is interesting. In that nerdy kind of way."<p>

"Elliot? Natalie's big brother? You like him?" Chelsea took a delicate bite out of the chocolate cake we were sharing.

"He's nice." I nodded, trying to stay away from anything more than 'like' as no one else knew yet. And I didn't plan on anyone knowing.

"Yes he is...But I don't think that he's-"

"That he's what? Cool?" I looked around the cafe to make sure no one was listening.

"Cool?" She furrowed her brow. I made a face at her and she realized her mistake."Oh, yes. No, I don't think he is." She gave me a double eyebrow raise as if to say, 'Really? You chose _cool_ as our code word for gay?' I'd change it later. It was the first thing I could think of.

"It's written all over his face! The coolness, I mean." I flushed. "Like, a secret coolness."

"Oh. Well I'm naive when it comes to...Coolness so. Yeah."

"Ahhhh I see. Well. I think he's cool, so I'm going for it. I'm going to be his friend."

"That's really nice. I hope you succeed." She nodded.

"Soooooo..." I took a bite of the chocolate cake. "Have you thought about what I asked you earlier?"

"About Vaughn and I?"

"Yes. You should give him a welcome home present." I winked.

"...I'm completely disturbed by your interest in this."

"I dunno, I just think you'd worry less and stuff if you did."

"Why?"

"Doing shiz like that changes a person. I think you'd become like this...Hell on Heels kinda chick. Doin' farm work in your short-shorts and open button-up shirt and stuff. I don't know, what...What _uncool_ guys go for." I grinned.

"..." She paused. "You think I'd look good like that?"

"Well, I can only say asthetically, not attractively. If you know what I mean." Another bite, and it was nearly all gone. "Here, you can have the rest." She took the plate in front of her.

"Gah! I can't believe you actually got me to think about it for a second. Not cool." She flushed and scarfed down the rest of the cake.

"Don't you ever wonder what it _feels _like to get all...Like..." I tried to think of a good word that would describe Vaughn. "YEE-HAW!" I whooped. She nearly fell out of her chair.

"Shhhhh! Shut up!" Everyone looked at us in the cafe. I laughed at her shocked red face.

"Well? Haven't you?" I whispered.

"Maybe I entertained the thought for a few mere moments..." She slunk down in her chair.

"Well go on then!"

"But I'm just so uncomfortable with myself! I can't. I couldn't."

"Am I going to have to instill confidence in you?"

"...No, I don't think it'd work anyways. I just have to wing it."

"I'll let you alone now, so you can plan. And remember!" I did one of those fist-pump things.

"Rememember what?" She looked up at me as I stood.

"_Do it for your horse_!" Her face erupted into red again and I practically skipped out of the cafe.

Today was a good day, I'd say. Well spent.

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><p><em>AN: Well, as you can probably tell, the fluff factor is going to be in abudance next chapter. And the rating **IS** going to go up. If you liked my little snippet of...Stuff in the final chapter of The Dreamer You will die of joy for this next chapter. But of course, this means waiting a little bit. It has to be perfect! :)_


	3. Returning Home, And the Kitchen Counter

_A/N: Okayyyyyy so. This is me pushing the limits of rated 'T' stuff by this website's standards, I think. I _also_ think people over 13 can handle a simple make out scene, geez. They have health class where I live at 11, so. There, that's my reasoning. Paranoia will probably push this to 'M' soon as the plot will get more...Mature...Yes, 'In-that-way.' And also... Because even some __**adults **__can't handle 'gay' stuff._

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><p><em><strong>Chelsea's POV<strong>_

Understandably I was a complete and utter wreck now. I had exactly thirteen hours if I stayed up all night-(which I was bound to, being of course I was said utter wreck) to prepare myself for what I was going to attempt to do.

Seduce Vaughn.

OHMYGAWDESS It even _sounds_ stupid. I can't! I can't do this. I don't even know what to _do_ in that kind of situation when _he_ takes the lead, let alone perform an outright seduction. I get so nervous and...And...I've never even worn _shorts_ in front of him, let alone take my shirt off or anything.

I felt like I was having a heart attack. Oh no, I'm going to die right here on the bed staring up at the ceiling, all alone. I have to make a plan! That's it! Just follow directions. I feel much better when people tell me what to do. I know I'm doing it right that way. Okay... So first I'd...

_First I'd take a shower and wash my hair so I smell pretty. And not like a barn. Which reminds me, I wonder how come Vaughn never smells like a barn? All he ever smells like is cologne and leather...Oh, but I'm getting side-tracked. Silly me._

_Next, I'd find something to wear. Maybe my special occasion undergarments? The ones I wore with fancy dresses. They were the good kind. They were black and lacey and I'm sure he'd appreciate that. I often wondered why people take so much time to pick out sexy lingerie if all they are going to do is take it off...? Is it the fact that you have to take it off to get to the so-called 'good parts' that make men like it so much? But again, not important. I really have to stay on task._

_After that, I'd...I'd... Wear my regular clothes. So he wouldn't suspect anything. I'd meet him at the dock all normal-...Who am I kidding? I'd probably trip and fall face down in the sand when I see him because I'm so nervous and anxious. Okay, let's pretend I'm not me._

_Then I'd lead him back to the house and Oh! I'd have to make breakfast for him. I have to get up really early tommorrow. There. He could have breakfast! Wait, would eating breakfast before...Physical exertion be wise? What if it was like swimming! I don't know how these things work. I fainted in health class! Did they talk about that? I doubt it. But it was a very important question. They should talk about that-_  
><em>Anyways. After breakfast...Maybe... I could tell him that he works to hard and that maybe it'd be wise for him to recieve a...Hmm...A shoulder rub! That's kind of nice, isn't it? I don't know.<em>

_Maybe I'm rushing things a little bit. Maybe I should wait. I should wait._

_I'm waiting._

But Mark...No wait, what do I care about Mark anyhow? He isn't in this relationship, I am. I wouldn't jump someone's bones this fast if it weren't for him. He's just putting pressure on me. It's all his fault.

But then there's doubt. What if I'm going too slow? Vaughn is slightly voracious, forgive my alliteration. What if he _wanted_ me to move fast?

_'You shouldn't do 'it' with a man just to keep him, honey. Think about this!' _My mother chimed. Yes, you're right. You always are. I should take it slow. Vaughn isn't putting any pressure on me. I haven't even heard the three magic words girls die for from him yet. And _I_ haven't said them either. It would be stupid of me to give myself away when that milestone hasn't been reached yet.

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><p>I waved at him from the docks. I always did this frantic and excited arms-raised-and-flail type thing, and he always waved back with a small and short normal wave and a head nod. I ran up to meet him and hugged him and in doing so I nearly knocked him over.<p>

"You sure are awake today, aren't you?" He said in his low voice.

"I missed you." I couldn't stop grinning at him.

"I...Missed you too." He smirked and laced his fingers over mine. We walked back to the house.

"How was work?" I began making a quick breakfast and he sat down at our table.

"Just set there at the auction house." He took his hat off and hung it on his chair.

"Nice. Oh! Did I tell you I lost our little argument?"

"We were fighting?" He furrowed his brow.

"No, no. Not like a fighting argument. You know, that discussion about...Mark and stuff." Realization crept over his face.

"Ohhh, I see. I _told _you he was a fruitcake." He smirked, content with his winning. I cracked an egg and put it in the bowl to beat it.

"Yeah, so you won." I shrugged. "I asked him about it yesterday while you where gone. Don't tell anyone else though. It isn't as obvious as you seem to think it is. No one else seems to know."

"Fine, I will. What do I get for winning?" I turned to look at him. He had his arms behind his head and he leaned back in his chair. It always gave me a bit of a psychosis to see him without his hat. He looked even better than usual without it. I loved his hat and...Cowboyness (especially his boots) but to see his face unshadowed by the brim of his hat was nice too. His violet eyes were not bad to look at either.

"Breakfast." I waved the wisk in the air.

"What if I'm not hungry?" I turned away from him to hide my face. I could tell I was flushing again. I was always doing that. People might think I have rosecea. He got up from his chair.

"Well...I don't know.." I tried to concentrate on using the wisk to beat the egg, but my arm seemed frozen.

I felt his arms snake around my torso.

"You could be my prize..." He whispered, his hot breath on my ear. I shivered and clumsily dropped the wisk in the bowl.

"I-I could?" I stammered, maneuvering my body so I was facing him and our torsos where flush. I reached up nervously and played with his white bandana on his neck.

"Yes..." He murmured before he planted a kiss on my lips. It was full of yearning, like he was trying to control himself. I felt something like desperation in the kiss as well. "I don't know why, but," He continued," You make me feel very..."

"Crazy?" I offered.

"Yes, crazy would be a good word too." He chuckled. I stood on my tip-toes to kiss him.

"I'm not going too fast, am I?" I whispered after one or two.

"Are you serious?" He looked like he actually wanted to laugh. I frowned.

"Nevermind. Why don't you take the lead instead?" He nodded and gave me another kiss.

His mouth trailed down my neck as he pushed me into the kitchen counter. With frightening dexterity he lifted me up on the counter, nearly knocking over the bowl with the egg and wisk in it. I pushed it far away and haphazardly wound my arms around his neck for balance. I bit my lip to stifle a giggling fit; his breath tickled. His hands trailed down my torso and rested at either side of my hips. They splayed out for extra balance as his mouth found mine again. I had gotten less scared of french-kissing as the days had gone by, so he bit my bottom lip (that was our approved signal) and his tongue easily slid into my mouth.  
>I tightened my grip around his neck as the kisses got rougher and a bit more sloppier. Every atom in my body buzzed in anticipation. He leaned further into me and I wrapped my legs around him. If he leaned any more, I would have had to push myself onto my back on the broke apart for a breather.<p>

"I like it when you take the lead. I just...I get nervous and I don't know what to do if I try." I panted.

"Just relax, darlin'..." He cooed, his eyes piercing into mine. I nodded.

"Vaughn?"

"Hmm?"

"...I-if we get to that point...Across the p-point of no return...I w-want you to...T-take me. Okay?" He blinked at me.

"...We don't have to do this today." He stated.

"We don't?" I frowned.

"Nope. Why did you think we did?"

"B-because we were really getting into it. Or, at least...Th-that's what I thought..." I stared up at the ceiling in embarrassment.

"Well, yeah. But we don't have to go _that_ far." He ran his fingers through his silver hair.

"We don't? You don't want to." I sighed. "Is it me? It it something I said? Do I suck at this_ that _bad?"

"No you don't...You don't suck." He bit his lip. "And of course I'd like to get to that point someday. Preferably soon rather then later. I just think...Well, to be frank...I don't think you're _ready_."

"Ready? Of course I'm re-" He covered my mouth with his hand and got so close our noses where almost touching. I could feel his breath on my face as he spoke.

"Sweetie, not even five minutes ago you asked me if a few short kisses on the lips was too much for you to do." I slumped.

"...I just don't want to come off too eager. Like I am. Obviously." I sighed.

"Let's just take a deep breath and move slow, okay?"

"Okay..." I was so very disappointed when he helped me down from the counter. I was actually okay with my first decision. But I guess today we are going with my gut (and second) decision. Taking it slow.

* * *

><p>"He said you're not ready? What a gentlemen! Most guys I know wouldn't have cared and been like, 'well, she gave me the green light!' And then proceeded to deflower you." Mark made a disturbing motion with his hands to signify what he meant by 'deflowering,' Which I was totally capable of understanding without said demonstration.<p>

"I just hate that he thinks he has to baby me." I sighed. "And it's even more sad that he_ does _actually have to because I _am_ so childish." I stared at his hands in horror until he stopped and spoke again.

"Not childish. Just..._Different_."

"I've heard _that_ before. 'Don't worry, she's just..._Different.' _or how about:_' _Oh, your audition for the Easter pageant was..._Different_. Next please.' Or better yet, 'Oh, I'd be your friend but you're just a little too..._Different_.' " I pouted. "I don't like being different sometimes. I thought I got pass not liking myself. How do _you_ like yourself so much?"

"Who said I like mysefl?"

"Your confidence."

"Oh. Well, I don't _love_ myself. I guess I like myself, but there is a difference."

"Well, I don't even _like_ myself. So...Yeah."

"You should."

"Why?"

"Because a guy like Vaughn wants to deflower you." He wiggled his eyebrows at me.

"Well, there _is_ that." I reasoned. "That's actually a good one, for once. Even though your little eyebrow dance creeped me out." I paused and thought of something else to say. "How are you and...Other stuff?"

"Me and Elliot are becoming friends."

"You told me yesterday you thought he was cool and you're _already_ friends?"

"We need a new code word." He sighed. "Yes, I spoke with him today. We're not like friend-friends but we're getting there. Cross your fingers for me. So I can talk to you about how I _am _ready." He stuck his tongue out.

"Yeah, by the time we have that conversation I'm going to still not be ready and you'll already have been a busy bee pollinating flowers and such."

"...We are so odd." He smacked his face. "Flower euphamisms."

"You started it."

"It must be the farmery-nature stuff..."


	4. Averting Eyes, And a Game

_**Mark's POV**_

After helping with the shipping again like I had been for the past season- (It makes me feel useful and not so much of a pest...) I sat at the table across from Elliot in his family's house. It had been nearly all of winter that I realized I liked him. I was going to start making my move.

"Hey." I rested my head on my crossed arms.

"Hmm?" He asked absentmindedly, staring off into space.

"Elliot."

"What?" He snapped out of it.

"What'cha thinking about?" I asked in a singsong voice.

"Nothing. I'm just tired. Is it lame I get tired as soon as the sun starts to set?"

"No, you have a physically taxing job to do all day. I'm tired as well."

"My sis thinks it's lame."

"She's lame for calling you lame." I stuck my tongue out.

"She's really mean."

"Who's really mean?" Natalie walked in. "Why are you talking about me?" She crossed her arms angrily. Elliot's eyes grew to the size of saucers.

"W-what? H-how long where you st-standing there, Nat? N-no, m-me and M-m-mark where just uh...We were just talking about work!"

"Yeah, you know. Guy stuff. " I put my best grin on. She looked wearily at us.

"Uh-huh. Sure. Fine. Whatever you say. I was just getting a book anyways." She shrugged and walked over to the book shelf and out of earshot.

"Thanks." He slumped in his chair. He used his index finger to push up his glasses. His face was red.

"No problem. I'm a good liar. It's a terrible thing to lie, but a good trait to have." He beamed. Natalie glared at us as she walked out the door. We were all alone again.

"...I don't know much about you, Mark."

"Oh yeah? Well, what do you want to know?" I sat back in the chair. He rested his head on his hands.

"...Do you have a girlfriend back where you came from?" I tensed.

"Uh..." I cleared my throat to buy some time. "Nope. Girls don't really catch my eye. Er, I mean. The girls where I lived at didn't." I crossed my arms over my chest and avoided his gaze. "Did you have a girlfriend before moving here?"

"Me? A girlfriend?" He scoffed. "Look at me! Girls don't like me. I've got these glasses and I have a low self-esteem. I'll be the first to tell you I'm not exactly a charismatic stud-muffin." I shrugged.

"Some people don't go for, quote, 'charismatic stud-muffins.' Thought maybe you snagged yourself a babe like that."

"A babe?" He let out a nervous laugh. "I don't know. Girls don't give me a second glance. Heck, they don't give me much of a first one!"

"It's not all that bad."

"Well, I don't know. A guy like you must attract attention, right?"

"What do you mean?" I stared at him. It was his turn to avoid my eyes. We where skating on thin ice.

"Well, I mean, you got that look. The young blonde-haired-green-eyed look girls dig. Like, the boys on tv or in magazines that girls seem to go crazy for."

"I suppose my dashing good looks could score a _preteen_, maybe." I shrugged. " I thought women like those rich-tan-handsome-but-slightly-rugged types. Country-clubbers."

"Maybe. I wouldn't know."

"Neither would I." I stated. We stared at each other.

"..." He remained silent.

"...A question for you. How long have you used glasses?"

"Since I was four."

"You probably looked awful cute! Like a red-haired famous wizard from that one book." I nodded approvingly.

"Maybe." He flushed the faintest bit.

"I wonder what you'd look like without them." I reached for his glasses and took them off. Classic move.

"I cannot see a thing without those glasses, man." He gripped the chair for dear life. I leaned over the table to get a better look.

"Nice!" I shook my head in approval. Lift up your bangs." He ran his fingers up his cranium. "You have a nice forehead. Man, if you slick your hair back and get contacts, you'll be a total chick magnet."

"Oh, y-you think so?"

"Totally. I would even figure a guy or two might be attracted to ya."

"Really?" He beamed, then caught himself. "Oh, b-but that'd be wierd, right?"

"No, I don't think so. Personally, I'd totally give you a second look."

"You would?" His face flushed and he put his hand down. His bangs flopped back into his eyes and I handed him his glasses.

"Yes." I looked him straight through his glasses. The fogged up slightly.

"Ummm..."

"I ought to get going." I laughed nervously. "It's getting late and I have a long walk back to the hotel."

"Oh! Um, I could come too."

"Oh, I couldn't ask you to do that!"

"Please? I mean, you've done so much for us. I owe you one."

"Okay.' We walked out of the house together.

"..I might take your advice. These glasses could get lost or broken easily with the kind of work I do." He seemed so determined.

"Good! That's nice."

"...So, do you have your eye on anyone here?" We passed Regis's mansion.

"Uhh...Nope. Not really. Maybe. I don't know yet."

"Oh. I saw you talking to Chelsea the other day at the cafe."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, you were leaving when I was starting in."

"Oh. Well, me and Chels are friends. She's with Vaughn."

"Oh."

"Vaughn's a good one, ain't he?"

"...I guess." He looked away. "To be honest, he kinda...Frightens me. He's a bit too...Too..._Masculine._ I feel kinda inadequate when he's around."

"Nah, he's probably overcompensating for something." I was going to say 'in his pants' but one- That was something I didn't want Elliot to know; That I thought about what was in Vaughn's pants; two- anyone with rudementary gaydar would sniff me out, and finally three- I seriously doubted Vaughn had to overcompensate, the way Chelsea talked about him.

"Maybe." He shrugged. "So you aren't even remotely attracted to Chelsea? I mean, she's pretty."

"Yeah, she is. Very pretty, actually. But nope, not one smidgen of attraction. She's also kinda awkward, but super interesting. It's complicated." I sighed.

"I'm sure. She doesn't really talk much, does she?"  
>"Well, up until a few days ago, neither did you."<p>

"..." We where finally at the hotel.

"Anyways, this is me. So, I'll be seeing you around?"

"Umm, yeah. Tommorrow? Will you be helping us out?" Elliot asked.

"Probably. See you then." I hestitated inside to see if he would call after me. I felt his eyes on me as I reached for the door.

"Wait." He sighed and I smiled to myself.

"Yes?" I turned around, feigning confusion.

"Umm..." He wrung his hands. " I really like you, Mark. I just...Wanted you to know that." He quickly turned on his heel and walked away. I shrugged and walked into the hotel to my room. When I got there, I collapsed on my bed in joy.

Oh, he was so easy. I had this one in the bag already.

And he's so gosh darn cute, too.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chelsea's POV<strong>_

"What will make you think I'm ready?" I squirmed nervously underneath him. He had my wrists locked above my head. Somehow a sweet peck on his cheek had brought us to this.

"Hmm...I don't know..." His eyes trailed down my sprawled out body. He looked at me as if he where imagining me naked, which made me inherently uncomfortable, and somehow made me feel kind of good at the same time.

"What if...I...Stop blushing everytime you kiss me?" I sort of wished he had at least his shirt off. The only things he had taken off was his bandanna and his hat.

"No, how would I know you still like me then?"

"I'd kiss back."  
>"Kissing back doesn't mean you like someone still. It means you're reacting."<p>

"Oh."

"You have much to learn."

_'Oh, the things you could teach me...'_ I mentally slapped myself. Thought like that...Naughty thoughts...They where popping up more frequently. I wondered if I could use them to my advantage without sounding like I'm trying too hard.

"W-well, maybe when I stop saying this like that?"

"They're endearing, I wouldn't want you to stop."

"Well, what do you mean by 'ready'?"

"I don't know, but I'll just know when you are." He shrugged.

"...Will _I_ know?"

"Quite possibly." He raised his eyebrows and nodded. I loved the way his silver hair hung down when he was looking at me like this.

"...What if we play a game?"

"Hmm?"

"Umm...What if, every night, as we do our routine of...Stuff..." I was referring to our rather teenaged makeout sessions, " We take off one more piece of clothing? By the time we strip all the way down, that'll be the marker that we're ready."

"...So let's see. I've taken off my bandana and my hat already."

"I have taken off none. So tommorrow my bandanna goes off and your vest goes off along with your hat and bandana."

"I see. And then your jacket and my shirt?"

"Mmmhmm. Then my shirt and...Your pants."

"And then...What then?"

"W-well..."

"You'll still have _your_ pants. I'd only be in my boxers. You'd still have your underwear after all is said and done, and...We can't really have that, now can we?" He licked his lips.

"Well, we can cut right to the chase the next night. After your pants." I attempted a shrug, which didn't work in the position we were in.

"Ohh, I see. So that makes it a total of...four days? You won't be ready in four days."

"Yes I will." I pouted.

"No you won't." He shook his head.

"_Fine_. How about we skip a day in between?" I offered.

"...That'll be eight days. You still won't be ready."

"I'm cutting it back to four days again. I'll be ready." I nodded.

"Why are you so anxious?" He raised his eyebrows at me again.

"Because! Look at you." I blurted without thinking. Oh, there was one of those naughty thoughts. Great.

"Are you sure about this?"

"I've been thinking about this since winter started."

"Wasn't that when we had our first conversation about this in the kitchen? I recall you where sitting atop of the counter."

"That was a long time ago. We've been together for almost three seasons."

"If you count the whole entire next season, yes."

"Spring is only days away."

"...You don't think this is too fast?"

"Not anymore."

"...Well fine. No use pushing a woman away who wants it."

"...That was extremely sexist and masogynistic.."

"Who cares?" He grinned. "Fine, I'll play your little game."

"Good." I grinned.

I would have to tell Mark. He'd be so proud of me.


	5. The Confession

Elliot slid in the chair in front of me. I was eating at the cafe, minding my own business. I looked around to see if anyone was watching. There were a few people here.

"My grandpa has been asking about you, you know." He slid his glasses up his face.

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

"Things." He sighed, looking away. "You know, he's so smart. And the questions he was asking were...I don't know."

"Well, what did he ask exactly?"

"Like, if you work at night too. Do you?"

"Sometimes I go off into the woods or something. Just kinda study the landscape or whatever." I shrugged. " I wouldn't exactly call that working. Why does he care?"

"I don't know, that's why I came to you. I'm pretty confused about the whole thing myself." He shrugged, sitting statically in his chair. He always seemed like he was in pain. "He usually doesn't pay much mind, and it seemed like such an odd question to ask..."

"Oh, well, tell him not to worry. I don't know why he's taken an interest in me, but...Whatver. Tell him thanks."

"I will. Don't stay out too late, though, okay? You're my friend, I don't want you to suffer from sleep deprivation." He smiled sweetly, and I grinned back at him.

"Aww, you care about my sleep patterns, my _circadian rhythm_, you cute little nerdface." I touched his shoulder, adding a little shove at the end to keep it as a masculine gesture. He flushed deeply.

"O-oh, well. You're welcome, Mark." He looked away nervously. "Say, do you know much about communication?"

"Yes, would you look at me? I'm the most charismatic guy I know. Why do you ask?" I crossed my arms and looked important.

"...Because my sister is still bothering me. I want to handle it once and for all. Do you know what I should do?"

"...You could handle it maturely, you know. People think giving them a taste of their own medicine is something you should do, but you don't. She's your sis, you know. You could just _tell_ her how she makes you feel. Ever think of that?"

"She'd just laugh at me. But I'll try and think of some mature things to say to her. After all, I _am _the older one." We sat in silence for a few moments.

"...Have you thought more about that whole contacts and hair thing?" I chimed in, hating the silence.

"Yeah," He leaned onto the table. "I'm working on it."

"Oh, nice." I paused, unsure of what to say next. "Well, anyways. I have to get going. Talk to you later?" I had to keep eluding him for just a while longer.

"Wait!" He stood from his chair quickly and grabbed my arm. I was so glad no one even looked up. "Er, I mean. I'm sorry. I just...I just wanted to have someone to talk to." He let go of me and we sat down slowly. Our eyes locked. I gulped a little. Not in nervousness, but just because had been so forward. His face had looked so masculine then.

"Okay." I shrugged. "I was just going out of courtesy. I thought you were really busy, maybe." I lied, adding a little chuckle at the end.

"No, no. I just... I can't talk to anybody, really. I'm much too shy or they just kind of...Overlook me. But you don't. I can talk to you, right?"

I stayed with him for an hour, just talking.

* * *

><p>I sighed. Day two for Chelsea. She had told me all about her plan with Vaughn, and while it made me proud of her- (She was getting a bit foxy lately, hadn't she?) It made me depressed for myself. I was close to Elliot, but I wasn't sure on <em>how<em> close.

And here we were, outside of his house. Sitting, just conversing in the side yard.

"...Do you see Julia out here?" He stretched his neck to see around the big silo.

"Why, do you have a thing for her?" I teased half-heartedly. It was my final attempt to see about him. I knew he liked me, but I wasn't sure _how much _he liked me. I didn't need to waste more time on him. He was a good friend, but I'm needy. I need _things_. And what I needed...Let's just say good boys and girls shouldn't talk about *it* to their parents.

"Well, I think she might like me. I don't know why, I'm not exactly the most attractive thing but.."

"Shut up." I glared at him. "What did I tell you about that low self-esteem?"

"...Well, I mean... Look at her! Doesn't she seem...Fit?" I tried to recollect her image. I hadn't spoken much to the citizens here, so it was hard to remember. "Oh, there she is. Is she coming this way?"

"Yep." I grimaced a little as I saw her, especially becuase out of the corner of my eye I saw Elliot tense and try to fix his clothes. She sauntered over to us, shaking her hips in that feminine way that made me want to hurl rainbow chunks all over.

She was tall and blonde. Long legs supported a small waist and large chest. Her face was very pretty, and had that natural sort of glow. She made me sick.

"Well hello there boys. Long day of work?" She put a hand on her hip, her slow southern drawl thick like honey.

"Yes ." Eliot blinked. I tried to watch for that nervousness he had with me and saw none, just normal social anxiety. He couldn't like her, could he?

"...I wish I could work as hard as you boys..." She sighed, fanning herself for no real reason.

"I don't do much." I chimed in. " I sorta sit around until someone finds me useful."

"Oh, well, I would ask if you would like to help around our shop, but since Vaughn moved over here we don't need much. Sorry." She crossed her arms and made a rather angelic face. I wish she could be fake or something so I could have a reason to dislike her, but she was a nice lady inside and out.

"It's okay, I like helping Elliot and his family out. It takes up most of my time." I went out on a whim and wrapped my arm around Elliot buddy-style. I wanted to have physical contact with him as much as possible. He flushed a little.

"H-he really is a good help..." He blurted out, and I grinned at her. She stared at us.

"Well, I'm glad everybody is working together. It makes for a unique and unified feeling on this island. Have you decided if you are staying permanently, Mark?"

"Uhh, no. Not yet. I do really like this place, though." I didn't let go of Elliot.

"Oh. well. You should consider it. I love it here. Well, I best be off on my way, I just wanted to see how you folks was doin'. Later." She waved and sauntered off. I let go of Elliot who just cleared his throat.

"...I don't have a thing for her, if you were really wondering." He suddenly found his hands interesting. "...Can I talk to you about something?"

"Okay...?" I furrowed my brow, aware of the sudden extra seriousness in his voice.

"...Let's go for a walk. I'll walk you home. It's getting late anyways." We stood and proceeded on the path.

"Okay, what is it?"

"...Well, you know how my sister picks on me all the time?"

"How could I not, it's all you_ ever _talk about." I smirked to let him know I was joking. He looked away from my face. I was trying to remove some of the heaviness from the air, and it seemed to work a little.

"Yeah, sorry about that." He let out little laugh. "..Well, anyways. It's because...She knows things about me."

"What kind of things?"

"...I'm not...I'm not like everyone else around here."

"How so?"

"..." He looked at me with a pained look in his eye. "...You promise not to tell anyone? Only my sister knows, and she uses it to black mail me sometimes."

"I think we're close enough friends now that you can tell me whatever you like. I'll keep it a secret. Scout's honor." I saluted him. The uneasy look didn't fade from his eyes.

"...I uh..." He wrung his hands as we approached the hotel. "Can we go inside first?" I nodded yes and we stormed through the lobby and got to my room. I knew what he was going to say, and I could barely contain myself. I didn't want to reveal my joy too soon, though. I needed to play my cards right.

"Okay, go on. No one can hear you." I sat down at the table in the middle of the room, crossing my legs. Elliot sat on my bed. He looked a bit unsure of what to say.

"Promise you won't run off?"

"I promise." _Just say it already..._

**"...I'm gay."** The weight lifted from my shoulders, and I refrained a fist-pump to myself.

"...Oh." I acted shocked. "Well, that makes two of us." It took a second for it to sink in. He looked up at me slowly.

"-You?...But-!" He stammered.

"Yep. I don't air out my business. I'm not hiding it, I'm not in the closet or anything." I shrugged.

"So, you-"

"...Dude, yes. I'm a guy who likes guys." He stared at me quite dumbfounded.

"Oh..." He stared off into space._Well, might as well get it over with._

"I'm a guy who likes _you_." I stated. His eyes met mine again. I leaned forward in my chair, and he stood up and paced around the room in a paniced like way.

"This is too much...Too much..." He stopped in front of me, his eyes wide and wild. I blinked at him, stood up, and took his glasses off. For those of you who are romance-movie buffs, you know what this means.

I kissed him. I kissed him good and long, and he started to kiss back. I made sure it counted, that he could feel my desire for him. Was I in love? No. Did I want to see where this friendship, where this _attraction _could go? Hell yes. He languidly pulled away from me, wiping his mouth timidly. He took deep breaths and back away from me. He stumbled over his own feet and fell on my bed.

"...I-...We...You...!"

"He, she, it, they. There, now all the main pronouns are used." I chuckled a little bit, happy some adrenaline was coursing through my veins.

"But, you..." His glasses fogged up, his face was red. "Okay. So, Me and you? B-but...You can't tell anyone, I'm not ready-...I mean, I like you, too. I just...We can be together- I-if, that's what you want, of course, but...I just-"

"...Elliot. Elliot, calm down." I cooed." Listen, we don't have to get serious just yet. We can just feel out this, okay? And when you're ready to come out, then we can talk about a relationship. For now..." I turned and locked the door. "We can experiment."

* * *

><p>"And then what happened?" Chelsea gripped her tea cup, listening to me relay what had happened yesterday.<p>

"Well, we just made out. Middle School stuff, really." I shrugged, slightly disappointed. I wasn't going to whore out either, just because I was getting increasingly horny as the days passed. "Couldn't give the poor boy a heart attack, now could I?" I laughed. "And what about you, are you making your cowboy go through cardiac arrest yet?" She immediately flushed and looked away. I thought it was so endearing she was shy.

"W-well, I mean...You know, we've gotten to heavy petting. That's what it's called, right?"

_Silly little Chelsea...How I adore you. Just not in that way._


	6. The Letter and Lost Innoncence

**Mark's POV**

I stared at the letter in my hand. It was cold- not in temperature, obviously, but the whole thing was so...Business like. Insincere. It was from my father: a plain white envelope with a stamp and a sticker from the corporation with his name and office address. My heart sank when I saw it. Elliot looked at me expectantly, his glasses low on the bridge of his nose.

"Who is it from, Mark?"

"...My father, checking in on me." I answered with a dry mouth. "I'm supposed to be doing some research."

"Oh, really? About what?" He furrowed his brow, probably wondering why I never told him about this.

"...About the farm and stuff. You know, all that I told you before. Or was it Chelsea that I told?"

"You told Chelsea."

"Oh, well...It's nothing. Just learning the trade and all." I shrugged half-heartedly, hoping my acting wasn't bad. He seemed to buy it. I turned away from him to examine the letter more carefully, afraid to open it and see what it said.

"...Well, aren't you going to read it?" He peered over my shoulder, and I made an affirmative noise. Haphazardly, I ripped the top and grabbed the piece of paper inside. We moved to the seats on his porch as I opened it. Scrawled neatly in his handwriting, my father wrote:

_Son,_

_Hope you are making me proud over there. Please send back information soon, I'm getting pretty restless. I need to know why that little farm is doing so well. What makes it so special? The board is scrambling to find good PR for the company. It's up to you. You're a big help. _

I crammed the letter back inside the envelope. I was glad what he wrote was pretty vauge, because Elliot grabbed it and read it himself.

" Wow, _that's_ your dad? And he sounds really proud of you. You must feel great." He smiled. I shrugged.

"He's okay. I have to write back to him. I'll do it later, though." I tucked the letter into my pocket and pretended like it was no big deal.

"...Are you and your father close?"

"Uhh, no. Nope. We used to be." I answered, my mouth feeling like I just ate a peanut butter and peanut butter sandwich with peanut butter on top.

"...Why did you break apart?" He asked carefully, leaning back in his chair. I sighed and looked away from him.

"Uh, well. Normal stuff at first, I guess. We were super close when I was a kid, but then my mom passed away and...Yeah. He changed, I started to grow up. Suddenly, he got lucky, struck it rich. The money consumed him. He sorta forgot about me and his original dream. It wasn't about community and health, it was just money now. And then...And then I disappointed him."

"What did you do?" I looked back at him and bit my lip.

"...Well, all he heard was 'no natural born biological children' when I told him I wasn't into chicks. He was angry with me, and then when it finally sunk in I was an open disgrace to the public, he was worried some sort of PR scandal was about to take place. I told him no one cared about the company of a produce market unless something was wrong with the plants themselves. This wasn't some sort of media-whore family or anything. It wasn't a big deal, and it shouldn't have been to him. And then after that, he told me not to be so open about it because I embarrassed him. It's not like I'm a big flirt or anything. At least, not openly." I caught myself. There had been a few drunken trists, a few 'for-fun' flings, but that was when I was a bad teenager just rebelling. I mello'd out in the past few years because I wanted something more. I didn't want anything glamourous, just simple. I liked simple. I came from simple, and I was going to die that way. Sure, I'm the son of a corporate giant, but that doesn't mean much nowadays. That's not fame, and I knew I wasn't going to get that.

"Not openly?"

"Well, I was a stupid teenager, once." I explained shortly. "Anyways, he employed me when I was of age and that's been really the only time we've talked or done anything together since. In fact, I'm positive that if I didn't work for him, we wouldn't be talking at all."

"So, does he hate you or something?"

"No, but he has a funny way of showing me he still _likes_ me, even if he doesn't approve of me. I know he loves me, but sometimes it's hard to be reassured on that when he tells me not to disappoint him again."

"That sounds rough."

"...My mom wouldn't have cared. My mom wouldn't have let him get so crazy. I mean, what could I have done? I was a middle schooler when this whole thing started. I guess I was sorta selfish then. I liked getting new and nice things. You see, before we hit it big-...Before my dad did, anways- we couldn't afford much. Everything went to the mother wouldn't have let it get to her head though, she was really down to Earth. At least, so I've heard. Maybe I'm romanticing her too much."

"...I don't know how my family is going to react. I'm the first born, the son. I'm supposed to carry on the family name." He seemed genuinely scared.

"React to what?" Elliot's mother, Felicia stood in the doorway. Elliot spun around to look at her in suprise.

"Uh...Uh, that umm... That Mark's dad is that uh, that man at the head of the big produce company in the city." He studdered.

"Oh! Really! That sounds nice. Is he really?"

"Yes." I smiled politely, and she bade us goodbye and went back inside.

"...That was close." Elliot slumped down in his chair.

"...You're gunna have to tell them eventually, you know. You can't just keep it a secret."

"I know, I know. It's hard." He sighed. I nodded, knowing exactly what he meant. You feel like just by breathing you're screaming it to the whole world that you're different, and you're so afraid of how the world will react.

"Yeah."

* * *

><p><strong>Chelsea's POV<strong>

"Mark! Mark!" I burst through the doors of the inn. The man at the desk and his exceptionally young wife looked up at me in confusion. "Mark!" I called again, running to his room. I knocked on it freverently and jumped up and down. Every atom in my body was buzzing. There was big news to be told, and it was important.

"What the hell?" Mark opened the door and I went inside to find Elliot.

"Sorry, sorry." I shook myself, not truely caring if I was intruding or not. "I'm sorry if I'm interrupting something but it's _really important!_" I gushed, jumping up and down. The two boys stared at me.

"Well go on woman!" Mark crossed his arms.

"Vaughn just told me he loved me!" I felt like I could explode into rainbows and butterflies and glitter right here and now.

"That's great sweetie! And what did you say back?" Immediately I stopped buzzing.

"What did I say? Oh..." I slowly backed out of the room. "...Well, he just said it in a passerby sort of way so I...And then I..." Mark blinked at me.

"You mean to tell me you ran over here right after he said it? He's probably wondering why you suddenly got all crazy." He laughed at me and blushed.

"Well, I just got so excited and all, like we're actually a for real couple and and and...I better go." I zoomed back to my house as fast as I could. People on the paths were jumping out of my way and looking at me like I was crazy. No no, I was just lovestruck. I slowed my run when the house came in sight, and then I walked through my door like nothing happened.

"...What was that all about?" Vaughn asked me in his very attractive drawl.

"What? Oh, nothing." I held back a smile. "...You told me that you loved me." He blinked.

"Why yes, yes I did." He nodded, leaning back on the couch, his boot clad feet on the coffee table in front of it. His posture had a bit of 'come-hither' to it. "And if I recollect, you didn't say it back." His eyes held a bit of hurt, but he hid it with a smirk.

"Oh! I'm sorry." I prepared by putting my feet together, smiling, and my hands went behind my back. A little curtsey and "I love you too, Vaughn." My mouth couldn't stop grinning. He bit his lip to stop one of his own as he leaned forward.

"And there it is." He got up from his seat and gave me a look that he would have described as 'like a coyote eyeing a fine bit of cattle.' (-and that little statement made me want to laugh, because I imagined him saying it in my head) He circled around me, closing the blinds of every window as he went along."And you know what today is, right?"

"..." Joy turned to exhileration and nervousness. "The last day, right?" I answered quietly.

"Yes it is, little darlin'." He got to the door and locked it. That click made my heart leap. "And I do believe that all of our work is done. Ain't nobody should bother us... So what do you say on getting right to it?" A flash of teeth at me and I turned to mush.

"O-okay."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I'm not too keen on writing lemon, and I dunno if I should. So. If I get an OVERWHELMING response of "doooodeee u shud write sum smexi lemonz 4 us, we 3 ur stuff lolz' I don't think I will... And if you really want that, I'm not promising anything good AT ALL in advance. **

**R + R, because it makes me do this - :D**


	7. Awakening

**A/N: **_So. This is more of a filler than anything. BUT! Don't look at it that way, it's important you read it. Sorta. Just Mark's part, really. Because. You have to know what he does. Okay. I apolgize this is so short, but this is kinda like the bliss before a storm and I felt wierd to put them in the same chapter together. I don't know why, just go with it. :)_

* * *

><p><strong>Mark's POV<strong>

"There. When will this get to him, you think?" I asked Elliot, handing him the envelope that held my letter in response to my father's.

"Oh, not too long. Probably three...Maybe four days." He responded, taking it from me gingerly. That letter contained a whole lot of nothing besides 'this is a nice place, haven't had a chance to do much research as I am befriending the villagers to gain trust, blah blah lie lie lie.' But he didn't know that. He thought I was relaying my wonderful time here. I told him I wouldn't say anything about us just yet. He was still afraid to say anything to his own family. I respected that.

"Oh, good. Good." I answered absentmindedly. I caught a glimpse of red down the path to Chelsea's farm. It was her, of course. She seemed to walk with a new confidence that I never imagined her to have. EVER. She glowed and I knew that from this moment on she would be a little less mousy.

"Hi guys." She beamed, putting one hand on her hip.

"...Why are you so-?" Elliot began, and I cut him off.

"One word for you; _Cowboy._ Here's some more: RIDE. THAT." I laughed and Elliot turned red. Chelsea reverted back to her old self.

"Hey, don't tell people my business!"

"Chelsea can't wear white to her wedding now, HA HA." I pointed. "Worth it though, Vaughn's sexy. I respect and approve of your choices, my lady friend."

"Well thanks. I think." She flushed, crossing her arms.

"So where were you off to in a glow?"

"Oh, you know. Off to the animal shop to see how Vaughn is doing..." Her voice was nearly inaudible by the time she finished, and her face flushed. "The usual..."

"Yeah, okay. You go do that." I shooed her off.

* * *

><p><strong>Chelsea's POV<strong>

Stupendous, magnificent, wonderful, eye-opening. That's what last night was. My ignorance of intimacy had turned to knowledge, and I felt _quite_ intelligible. Indeed. Copious amounts of information had overloaded my senses. Even thinking about it made my face burn and my physical being ache for him once more. Just a brush of his hand...It was peachy, terrific, phenomenal, incredible, stunning...Need I think of any more describing words?

I felt truly wanted. Loved. Filled. No longer was I as shy as I had been. A man had found me lovely even as I stood naked before him, what had I to fear with people who saw me with clothes? I had been beautiful to him stark, I shall be gloious to others robed. I had a special mind. No longer was I bizzare_,_ I was _eccentric._ No longer was I mousy, I was _reserved._ Nearly the same meaning, but to a positive degree. I was to be postive from now on.

He made me feel whole, more than he ever had before. Those three words had filled me with such joy, and then there was a whole _other_ feeling. A new feeling, a feeling that made me feel like liquid. An overflowing, melting feeling that made my stomach leap and my toes curl. I could not control my words; they poured out into the air with nothing but nonsence accompanying them. Well, nonsence and volume. I had been loud, so loud it worried me. I felt a bit embarrassed after, but he reassured me it was fine and actually quite arousing. He didn't care if anyone had heard, even if they could. The afterglow was marvelous. I felt satiated. I had no recollection of time, space, or even of myself. All I felt was warm waves of pleasure and disorientation.

Surfeit. I would describe that as the feeling. Too much of a good thing. I was worried that was all, but I had been _very _wrong. There had been more. Tasting, touching. New sensations arose from him using his mouth on places that were simply _scandelous_ and secretive until then. It was horrible and disgusting but it felt too wonderful to stop. Satiation, oh the beauty of that feeling.

And I wanted to see him again, this man that made me feel oh so very good. I wondered if all women could feel as I felt. I was sure they could, but was it to the level I had met? It didn't matter, really. I didn't care about other women and what they felt, just about the man that could make me feel those feelings.

And so here I was seeking him out once more, hopng that what had transpired behind closed doors would yet again take place when he came home.

There wasn't even a wave, just a look that confirmed my desires. He gave me the look he had just before he locked the door last night.

"Hey! Come to buy something today?" Mirabelle asked sweetly, and I smiled back at her with newfound confidence.

"Yes m'am! I needed to buy a new milker, the other one's gotten a bit worn.." I said, and she gave me a big grin.

"Something's changed with you, huh? Well, I sure do like it." She gave me another grin and handed me my order politely. I walked over to Vaughn and gave him a smile too.

" What're _you_ so happy about?" He stepped closer, his face inches from mine. I held my hands behind my back, noting that this was probably going to end up in public affection. (which we hadn't done much)

"You make me happy." He made me more than happy, but I didn't have to say gave me a smirk and a peck on the lips.

"You're distracting me from work again."

"Am I? Deepest apologies, sir." I flicked his hat up a little and kissed him back, standing on my tippy-toes. His arm wrapped around my waist and pressed me into him. His belt buckle dug into my stomach, but I barely noticed it. His finger traced down my chest absentmindedly.

"I think...You should be ready for some sort of punishment when we get home..."

"When will you be off?" I asked seriously.

"Few hours." He answered, giving me a 'tut-tut-you-dirty-girl' look.

"Okay you two, you both have other things you should be doing right about now." Mirabelle laughed, and we broke apart. I flushed a little and made my way out of the shop.

Oh the joy, my cowboy and his boots.


	8. Ultimatium, and The End

**A/N:**_Before anyone gets confused, yes. Timeskip. How long, I'm not sure. I'd say about a year. Because I'm pretty positive the story started in the wintertime and the last chapter was probably along the lines of the beginning of summer, I'd say. SO! This chapter takes place a whole year after the last one. Got it? Okay. Good. Let's go. _

* * *

><p><strong>Mark's POV<strong>

I had to admit, I was a bit jealous. It was pretty much a year since Elliot and I became officially unoffically together. Vaughn and Chelsea got married***** a few weeks back and they (and I mean Chelsea) was sort of annoying me with all her happiness. Here I was with a beau (who although was not gorgeous like Vaughn) made me feel good and complete, but _still _would not come out to his family. It hurt me a little. I know its hard to do, possibly the hardest thing I've ever done, but it has to be. It's like lying to them in their face every single solitary day. If not for you, do it for them.

And I tried telling him that. But he was so damn cowardly sometimes. It was putting a strain on our relationship. (Which had, by the way, turned physical at this point...If you know what I mean. It was kinda fun at first to have him sneak away with me, but now it just made me sorta pissed.)

And so here I was. Avoiding my father and stuck in a rut.

* * *

><p>"Chelsea. I swear to the Harvest Goddess that if you tell me that your eggo is preggo I will stop talking to you. Before that though, I'll punch you in the face."<p>

"Hey, you can't punch a pregnant woman!"

"Why not? Your face ain't pregnant! Are you?"

"What! No. No way. Do I look like I am?" She put on her trademark worry face and looked at herself.

"No. You don't even look fat. Shut up. "

"You're irritable today. What's wrong? And why would you stop talking to me if I was having a baby?"

"Because that adds one more thing on your bliss list. It's getting on my nerves. I'm jealous." I wasn't one to mince words.

"You're jealous?" She furrowed her brow.

"Yes. Elliot won't say anything to his parents. And I still am not sure if I'm staying for another year. Doesn't seem overly worth it right now. I tried to work it out, but two have to tango. With one person it just looks terrible."

"...I don't quite understand what you meant by the last statement."

"...Look, let me break it down for you. I'm trying to fix this, but he won't just do what I asked. I gave him a whole year. It's hurting me. He's denying me because he's afraid. I don't need that. I like to think I'm pretty patient too. He isn't trying. He doesn't want me enough to stand up to them. He doesn't even know if they'll react negatively."

"Oh, I see." She frowned. "...Mark, if you did leave, you'd write to me?"

"Of course I would."

* * *

><p>My father had been getting impatient with me. I knew in my heart of hearts I would never go back to him and working for his company. It made me sad to even think that, but I knew it was true. We had been so close, but we drifted. I suppose we could fix it, but he didn't want to as much as I did. So here was my final letter. It was the truth.<p>

_Dear Father, _

_These past few months have been hard. This whole year has, actually. You asked me to do something, and at first I thought I would tell you I failed. But I didn't. _

_The secret to Chelsea's success is her heart. Her love, her caring. She is gentle and so very docile. The love she has for her livestock and produce shows through quality, which is one hundered percent organic. She has become one of the best friends I've ever had. But I know that's not what you want to hear. Or read, I guess. So here. _

_They have a very good neighborly system. Everyone has a job here, everyone works together. Kinda like how we used to be. This leads me to believe one thing. _

_You've turned cold. Quality goes down when machines pick the plants. Quality goes down when love is missing. Quality goes down when you put chemicals in the soil. Quality goes down when you actually only care about money and not the customer. _

_Will you change any of that? No, because you couldn't even change for your son. _

_Mom would have been so proud at first, but I know now she's looking down on us in disappointment. Well, not me anymore. She always taught me to follow my heart and to be whatever I wanted to be. You always kept me in a box and told me who I needed to be. I can't live that way. I'm a free spirit. _

_I've wanted for a long time to live again in rolling green pastures, walk in the forest, take a jog down a country lane. Bike on a back road with no cars. The sound of birds in the morning, not police sirens. The pure sun warming my face, not flourescent lights. To see starts at night, not smoggy clouds. _

_So I'm staying. This place makes me happy. I'm not going back to the city. Consider this my resignation. I don't even know if I'll stay here permenantly, but so as long as I am somewhere far from a city I'll be fine. _

_For a long time we've had our ups and downs (more downs than ups) and I'm tired of it. I know you love me, and I want you to know that I love you too. You're my dad. You raised me to who I am today. But I can't take it anymore. The sideways glances, the disappointments. I know you hate who I am, and it's okay. Because I don't hate me. I choose to be me. I'm not going to fake my way through life. _

_Mark_

I put my pen down, deciding against telling him I was with Elliot. He didn't need to know that much. And maybe I wouldn't be with him by the time he got the letter. It pained me to feel this way, but I couldn't just allow him to hurt me. So I would give him an ultimatium. Was it fair? Probably not. But I was fed up with waiting, with feeling like he was ashamed of me. I sent the letter out the same day. Tommorrow I would have a talk with Elliot.

* * *

><p>"Elliot." I sighed, dreading this conversation all morning.<p>

"Yeah?" He stacked the last shipping box where it belonged.

"...Elliot, I don't know if we should do this anymore." I said quietly. He tensed at looked at me, a look of pain in his glossy eyes, magnified by his glasses.

"What?" His voice was like a baby bunny caught in a trap, or a child spending a day in Hell.

"...I just don't think you're ready for a relationship. With me." I hoped he understood.

"...But, I-! ...What did I do wrong!"

"Well, maybe you aren't as mature as I thought." I had to look away from him, his eyes where kiling me. He stood statically.

""Was it because I wouldn't tell...I wouldn't tell my family that I'm gay?"

"..Yes." I crossed my arms.

"I'll tell them, I promise, I just-" This made me angry.

"You've been telling me that all along! It's like-...It's like you're ashamed of me or something. I'm a grown man, I can't be dealing with this kind of shit anymore. I know who I am. I have for a long time." I insinuated a 'grow-up' and I knew he caught my drift. "I've been patient. I've been understanding. But everytime you deny me I feel so hurt. It breaks my heart. I can't do it anymore. So you either go over there and tell them or I'm afraid we'll just have to be on haitus until you do. And I can't promise I'll still be here when that happens." He looked sick.

"I'll tell them. I'll tell them right now. Don't leave me." I felt like such an ass when he said that. Maybe I could have waited...No, no. I was being hurt, and I was taught never to let anyone do that to you no matter how much you love them.

Because I did. I loved the kid. That's why it hurt so much. I had grown to love him, and he grew to love me too. We were emotionally attached (especially him, as I had taken his virginity...) and I hated the cons that came with the pros. I didn't want to hurt him this way, but I couldn't let this go on any longer.

He marched over to his house. I was suprised he actually meant _right now._ I wouldn't have cared if he wanted a day or two, mabye set up a nice meeting like I had with my dad. But no, he was doing it _right now._ I wasn't sure if that was the best thing to do, but I didn't want him to lose his determination.

We entered his house, and he instantly lost his confidence when Taro waved and smiled at us.

"Why hello there!" Taro greeted us, and I waved meekly back.

"Hi, Grandpa. Can you gather everyone in here?" He wrung his hands and stepped closer to me. Taro called Elliot's mother and sister and they sat with him at the table. Natalie seemed ticked as she usually did, and Felicia welcomed us with a warm smile. She reminded me of my mother when she did that. Or at least, the pictures I had seen of my mother.

"Hey. I've decided to tell you something that I've wanted to for a long time. I'm...I'm gay. And I'm with Mark." He seemed both relieved and scared. Felicia's face went a bit pale, and Natalie laughed.

"I knew it!" She gasped out, and it seemed to stab Elliot in the chest.

"You knew?" He inquired.

"It's totally obvious! You'd sneak out to hang with _Mark_, hellooooooo!" Elliot stiffened, obviously not knowing she knew.

"You were sneaking out to see him?" Felicia gave a stern look to her son. "Oh well, can't be helped. You are what you are, you love who you love." Gee, I wished my dad had been so forgiving. Goes to show you not everyone's family is made of bigots. Elliot sighed happily. Taro had a confused look.

"You're what? I didn't catch that..."

"He's homosexual, Dad." Felicia blinked, and an amused look came over his face.

"Oh! I knew one of them once. It was the seventies. Tried to hit on me, he did. NIce fellow though. Oh well. Bygones be bygones." He shook his head as if it made him sad he didn't reciprocate.

"So you're not mad?"

"Why would we be mad at something that is apart of you? I love you."

"Me too, big bro. And Mark's a cutie. What a shame. " She winked, and I flushed. Wasn't the first time a girl hit on me, but it still made me feel warm fuzzies inside. How cute.

* * *

><p>And so thus begun the now infamous and only gay couple in the history of the Island of Happiness. All loose-ends were tidied up. I was happy, Chelsea was happy, and everybody seemed okay with it. We were nice folks.<p>

Oh, and my Dad sent me a letter back. He told me he cried and realized what he had done. He wanted to work it out. He said he might come vist from time to time. That's when I told him I was in a relationship. He said I was right about Mom. He vowed to change. I guess me threatening to leave forever gave him the kick in the pants he needed and deserved.

Well, that's all for me. Like I said, I'm nothing special. I'm not the most attractive guy, nor the most significant. Hell, I'm not even all that polite. But I'm me, and I'm happy with that. Chelsea sorta taught me that even though most of us won't do much in this life, it's the people you touch that make you important. It's the feelings, the advice. The things they take with them and pass on. Chelsea may not be famous, but she sure does a hellova lot for this island.

When it comes right down to it, we're all important. It's a system. We all have a job to do, somebody we belong with. We're all important to somebody. We have a destiny, and it's up to us to follow our hearts.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **_The End. _

_Yes. Yes it is. Makes me wanna cry. I hope it doesn't seem rushed or too sudden. _

_*****__This asterisk is because I know (maybe) someone might complain that I didn't even have a thing about Chelsea and Vaughn's marriage and proposal and stuff... But you gotta remember. This was Mark's story. Yes, I developed Chelsea and Vaughn more, but this story was mostly about Mark's journey of acceptance and happiness. _

_Well, time to play with new personalities. _ALERT: SHAMELESS SELF-ADVERTISMENT: _If you're intereted. you can read my new fic: Te Amo, Te Odio. It has Dan and an OC. Complete opposites of these characters. Dan isn't dashing like Vaughn, and my OC is a strong and stubborn woman. Unlike this version of Chelsea. It has spanish in it! :D_

_Please, Review. Tell me what you think. It makes me happy that people will sit down and read this. Truly. Without my reviewers I would not write anymore. Even if one person does, it lets me know that this is not all for naught. _


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